


What Is Real

by shaylea



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Being on display, Bottom Jensen, Butt Plugs, Caning, Dom Jensen, Dom/sub, Doms have limits too, For those it matters to, Love in a bdsm relationship, M/M, Objectification, Safewords, Sub Jared, Using physical pain to cope with emotional turmoil, respecting limits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 23:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12046632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaylea/pseuds/shaylea
Summary: Jared has a tough weekend ahead of him so asks Jensen for some help to get him through it.  Wanting to help his boy, Jensen doesn't pay enough attention to his own needs.





	What Is Real

**Author's Note:**

> This is related to No One But You, but it's not necessary to read that before reading this.

Jensen isn’t surprised when Jared turns up at the brewery. 

He appears midafternoon on what’s been one of the hottest days of the summer so far and Jensen’s stripped down as much as possible as he forces himself through physical labour that’s so different from what he does as his day job.  He’s thought several times that they should be grateful they film in Vancouver instead of Texas, because he seriously couldn’t cope with all those energetic fight scenes in heat like this.  Of course, though, Jared comes bouncing in wearing jeans, long sleeves and his beloved beanie, never one for sweating when it would actually be appropriate.

“Dude,” he calls, while still halfway across the floor from where Jensen’s struggling to piece some equipment together.  “Did you know that most toilets flush in the key of E flat?”

“I did actually.”  He didn’t, but it’s worth it to see Jared’s flicker of doubt as he skids to a halt.

“Don’t lie.”

“Why would you think I’m lying?”

“Because _I’d_ know that if you had known, so you didn’t because I only just found out.”

“That right?”  Jensen straightens his back to stretch muscles that are far too close to 40 to be doing this kind of shit.  “Where’d you find out?”

Jared catches his arm.  “What’s wrong?”

“Just stiff.”

“Did you strain your neck again?”

“I’m fine, Jay.” 

Unconvinced, Jared digs his fingers into the back of Jensen’s neck.  He’s picked up a few things over the years from all the massages Jensen’s given him, and after a moment of resistance, Jensen bows his head and lets Jared take care of him.  As usual, Jared’s focus doesn’t last very long, but his fingers have taken the edge off by the time he presses a kiss between Jensen’s bare shoulder blades. 

“I’ve come to visit you,” he announces unnecessarily between more kisses. 

“I see.”  Jensen lets him, because it feels good and also because he knows why Jared’s here when he’s mostly been avoiding the brewery all summer.  “There’s plenty for someone with your muscles to do to help out, if you’re interested.”

Jared screws up his face.  “I come to visit you and you put me to work?”

“Just a proposition.” 

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Putting that together.”

Wandering over, Jared picks up a couple of pieces and examines them.  “It’s pretty shiny.  What’s it gonna do?”

“It’s for the testing room.”

“Oh.”  Obviously not taken with the idea, Jared moves over to a couple of barrels in the corner.  “And these?”

“What do you think?”

“For kegs?”  His eyes light up.  “Jen, we should do that again.  With one of yours.  That would be fun.  My birthday’s coming up, you know.”

“And we’ll be at work.”  Jensen has certain plans in place for Jared’s birthday but nothing he intends to share right now.  “You wanna carry those into the next room for me?”

“Sure.” 

They’re heavier than they look and keep Jared occupied for a couple of minutes, giving Jensen the opportunity to screw another few pieces together.  He hears Jared talking to Nate, his pealing laughter echoing through the mostly empty rooms.  Laughter is good, but he sensed the hyperarousal beneath Jared’s seemingly relaxed demeanour.  Good thing he’s prepared for him today.

Sure enough, Jared drifts back in, finishing his conversation over his shoulder.  “He’s dedicated, man.  You couldn’t have found anyone better for this.”  Crouching down beside Jensen, he pokes one of the pieces.  “What’s this?”

“A piece of metal, Jared.”

“You’re no fun today.”  Jared sticks out his tongue.  “How much longer are you gonna be here, Jensen?”

“Another few hours.”

“You could stop now.  We could go work out.”

“There’s plenty of heavy lifting to be done here.  You’re welcome to help.”

“It’s not mine.”  It’s a sore spot, this wasn’t how it was meant to be, and that’s only adding to Jared’s nerves right now. 

Jensen keeps an eye out as Jared flounces around other sections of the brewery, chatting to Nate and Gino, interfering with their work and getting in their way, until eventually he judges it’s the right time.

“Jay!”

Jared’s head pops back into the room he’s working in.  “Yeah?”

“Into the office.  Now.”

The alacrity with which he moves tells Jensen he was right, Jared’s been angling for this.  He flops down on one of the boxes that’s currently serving as a chair.  “Want me to blow you?”

Jensen takes a seat on the other side of the desk and puts on the stern expression he knows tends to cow his beloved boy.  “What do you want, Jared?”

Jared tries to look innocent.  “To blow you?”

“Yeah?  Right here in public?”

“It’s only Nate and Gino.”

“I’m at work.”

“That’s never stopped us.”

Which is regrettably true.  He doesn’t let himself smile.  “Tell me what you need.”

“Your dick in my mouth.”  But Jared squirms, not meeting his eyes. 

“You had that this morning.  What do you need from me this afternoon?”

“You wanna blow me instead?”

“Jared.”

Jared gives an elaborate shrug.  “Just tryin’ to be polite.”

“Why did you come here, Jay?  Just tell me.  Ask me.”

Pulling his legs up onto the box so he’s sitting crosslegged, Jared shrugs again.  “I can leave.  Stop annoying you.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“But you want me to.”  That’s got Jared’s attention and he looks up, all hurt eyes and Sammy pleading.  “I’ll leave you alone if I’m such a nuisance.”

“Hey, Jared.”  Jensen lets his voice harden.  “Ask me.”

Jared holds his eyes for a long moment, then screws his enormous body up into a tiny ball and blinks at Jensen over his knees, picking at the loose threads in one of the holes in his jeans.  “Want you to cane me,” he mutters.

Okay, that’s not what Jensen expected.  “You’re still bruised from last week.”

“Don’t care.  Need more.  For the weekend.”

For the weekend when Jared has to fly halfway across the country with his wife to keep up appearances at a family wedding and Jensen can’t go with him.  It’s the second time this summer and on top of the chaos that will break loose on social media tomorrow with the pain-in-the-ass blog debuting, Jared wants some grounding.  Jensen gets that, but caning is a little extreme considering they’ve only just tried it for the first time and he went hard on Jared. 

“Get up and bend over the desk,” he instructs, pushing back his chair, “and pull down your pants so I can see how you’re healing.”

Suspicious hazel eyes widen.  “You mean you’ll do it?”

“Let me see the state of you first.  Now, Jared.”

Shyness gone, Jared surges to his feet, all lithe muscle and coiled power.  Now that he’s confessed what he wants, his restless energy eases and he flicks open his belt, undoes his jeans and shoves them down to his thighs before obediently bending over to lay his upper body across Jensen’s desk. 

“Good boy,” Jensen murmurs.  Moving around the desk, he lays a soothing palm on Jared’s lower back and inspects the damage. 

Jared’s healing well.  He usually does, quick to injure himself, quick to recover, but it’s reassuring to see.  To test, he runs a finger gently over the still-red weals.  Instead of flinching, Jared pushes his ass up into Jensen’s hand, a wordless plea.

Jensen squeezes harshly.  “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Tell you what I actually want or what I think you’ll give me?”

“Which do you think?”  Jensen gives him a hard slap across both cheeks. 

Since Jensen hadn’t specified what he should do with his hands, Jared has them both stretched across holding onto the opposite side of the desk, but he slides one of them back to wriggle up and twine his fingers with Jensen’s.  It’s something he started doing early on when he was uncertain and wanted courage to say what was required, and the familiar gesture resonates through Jensen’s heart.  This year is a very tough challenge for Jared and so far he’s meeting it admirably.  Jensen’s so fucking proud of him he could burst. 

“Tell me what you want me to give you.”

“Twenty at ten,” Jared mumbles.

_“What?”_

“I want you to give me twenty with the cane at a pain level of ten.” 

“No way.”  Twelve at nine last week had pushed Jared to the limit.  Twenty at ten is _not_ happening.

“I knew you’d say that, so I have a counteroffer.”

“What is it?”

“Eight at eight, but in three places.”

“Which places?”

“My ass, the back of my thighs, and my chest.”

“I’m not caning your chest, Jared.”

“You can.  I looked it up.  It won’t damage me.  I have a lot of muscles there and all it’ll do is hurt, and that’s what I want.”  Jared makes it sound so reasonable, but when he glances back over his shoulder Jensen can see his nerves.  “Please, Jen, do this for me.”

“You don’t even like it if I _spank_ your thighs.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Just is.”

“Tell me.”

“I wanna feel it on the plane,” he says in a rush, his fingernails digging into Jensen’s palm with his frantic insistence.  “It’s a fucking long flight and I’ll be trapped with—I’ll be trapped and I need to feel you with me.  I want it to hurt like shit all the way to Seattle and since you won’t give me twenty at ten, this is my next option.”

Oh babe.  Jensen knows how bad things are but Jared seemed to be coping relatively well with it all.  “So how does your chest come into it?”

“I want—more,” Jared says fiercely.  “You have no idea how much I actually want, Jen.  What I really want is for you to cane my soles as well.  At ten.  It’s said to be excruciating and I want to feel that, want to feel you, with every step I take this weekend, want to be holding back screams, want it to be consuming me, burning me up from the inside out.  And I want you to cane my palms, I want deep bloody welts on my palms so I can see them at all times and know what’s real, like Sam, know that what’s real is you, is us, and I’m not alone even though you aren’t there.”  His eyes blaze.  “That’s what I want, Jensen.  That’s what I want and I know you won’t even consider it, so I’m asking for what I hope you’ll give me.  Please.  I need to get through the next five days and I’m asking for your help.  _Please.”_

He loves hurting Jared, that’s a given, but he doesn’t know how to deal with this level of emotionality involved.  Jared’s shaking in the aftermath of his plea, gripping Jensen’s hand so tightly his fingernails have likely drawn blood, and Jensen would sell his soul to soothe him so how can he deny him when he’s asked so clearly?

“Okay,” he says when he can trust his voice not to tremble.  “I’m gonna help you, Jay, I am.  Trust me.  Yeah?” 

He makes Jared stay there bent over the desk, bare ass on display, while he sorts through some accounts that need his attention.  It’s proof of how badly Jared needs this that he remains still, none of his earlier agitation in evidence now that he knows Jensen’s going to take him in hand and give him what he wants.  Jensen knows Nate and Gino won’t bother them as long as they think they’re having sex (if Jensen should be embarrassed by his employees believing that of him, he’s not) so he keeps an eye on the time.  After half an hour he gets up, makes a couple of preparations and comes up  behind Jared.

“How do you feel, Jay?”

“Exposed.”  Jared’s voice sounds like it’s coming from far away.  “I know no one’s gonna come in, but I still feel…on display.”

“You are on display.  For me.”  Cupping Jared’s cheeks with his hands, he spreads them apart.  “Your hole is still puffy from this morning.”  He’d fucked Jared hard, harder than usual, knowing he was flying apart and hoping to give him something to hold onto.  Obviously it hadn’t been enough.  “Hold yourself open for me.”

Obediently Jared digs his fingers into his cheeks and pulls. 

Jensen traces a finger over the pink swollen hole.  “How does that feel?”

“Good.”  Jared gives a little shimmy against the desk.  “Will you fuck me, Jensen?”

“Not now.”  Wetting his finger in his mouth, he slips it in Jared’s hole.  “Right now I’m going to give you something else.  Hold still while I prepare you.”

Guessing what’s coming, Jared gives a high little sound of pleasure and arches his back, making entry easier for Jensen’s finger.  Perhaps sooner than he should, Jensen reaches for the lube he placed on the desk and adds a second finger.

Jared loves his hole being played with.  Sometimes this is all they do for hours, Jensen playing and exploring and testing.  One day he wants to build up to fisting Jared, he’s done a lot of research on it and figures he knows how to do it safely now, but he still wants to wait until after the show, some day when they have lots of time for prep and recovery, when Jared doesn’t need to strain his body for anything else. 

A shared fantasy of theirs is a time in the future when it’s just them for weeks, if not months, when neither have to be seen in public and Jensen can plumb the depths of his depraved imagination and take it all out on Jared’s body.  Jared fantasises about it even more than he does, often coming up with filthy scenarios to whisper in Jensen’s ear while they fuck, crazy ideas like Jensen immobilising him for days, just using him for his holes and otherwise carrying on with his daily life as normal, or repeatedly fisting him until his asshole gapes open then whipping it closed only to wreck it all over again.  Things Jensen would never dream of doing but the fantasy gets them both going. 

Jensen suspects that Jared’s a lot more extreme than he is.  It terrifies him sometimes, what might have happened to him had he not ended up with Jensen, if he’d found someone just as extreme instead, someone whose first priority wasn’t Jared’s safety and mental health but was happy to abuse him to the extent Jared desired just because Jared didn’t stop him.  Or even beyond what Jared could take.  Often Jared doesn’t say no when he should, when he needs to, and self-protection is something Jensen’s had to work on with him a lot. 

It gets tricky when it’s something like today.  Jared wants something very extreme and he sees it as self-protection, something to give him the strength he needs to get through the coming unpleasant days.  It’s Jensen’s job to make sure it stays this side of the line, though, that he’s not using it as some form of self-punishment because he’s feeling guilty or self-destructive.

Ah, Jay.  He adds a third finger gently, just for a couple of thrusts, since he doesn’t want him too open.  Jared hums.  He likes this.  He’s in the right headspace, calm and relaxed, solely focused on the feel of Jensen’s fingers in his ass.  Good.

Time for the next part of Jensen’s plan.

He warms it first in his hands, ignoring the mutter of objection when he withdraws from Jared’s hole.  “Look at me, sweetheart.”

There’s a flicker of smile at the endearment when Jared turns his head to look back over his shoulder.  Jensen makes a show of taking the sizeable plug into his mouth, running his tongue around the edges of it the way Jared likes done to his cock then pushing it all the way inside.  It’s only his years of swallowing down Jared’s huge cock that keeps him from gagging, but he wants Jared to see this, to see them sharing this plug that will go from Jensen’s mouth to snuggle deep in his ass. 

“Keep yourself open,” he instructs, and Jared fixes his eyes on Jensen’s face as he works the plug through Jared’s outer ring until it’s fully in place.  “You can let go now.  How does that feel?” 

“It’s big.”

“Yeah, it is.”  Tapping the end of it, he watches Jared flinch.  Oh yeah.  “And you’re gonna wear it for the rest of the afternoon while you help Gino move all the crates, which should have arrived by now.  Then tonight, after we’ve put the kids to bed and you’re all packed for tomorrow, I’m going to give you your caning.”

 

*

 

Although he expected to struggle with it, Jared finds himself enjoying the afternoon despite the gigantic fucking plug stretching his ass wide open.  It’s good to have a focus, to be useful, not to just drift around dreading tomorrow and the weekend and the next two weeks until he can escape back to Vancouver. 

Jensen’s going to give him what he asked for and that’s all that matters. 

That knowledge gets him through the awkward evening at home and the mortification of reading bedtime stories while squirming on an agonising plug that by now feels at least three times the size of the one he saw Jensen insert, and he makes his escape as quickly as possible once the kids are in bed. 

He finds Jensen on the deck overlooking the lake with beers.  Jensen holds one out to him with a casual smile.  “The sunset’s pretty tonight.”

No.  No, no, no.  How is he supposed to sit here and appreciate a Texan sunset, no matter how beautiful?  “Foreplay’s severely overrated, you know,” he points out as he accepts the beer, obediently sinking into the soft chair Jensen indicates. 

“Just getting you in the right mindset.”

“I’ve been in the right mindset all fucking day, Jensen.”

“Obviously not, if you’re arguing with me.”

“It hurts.”

“You want it to hurt.”

True, but that’s not the point.  He wants more, not civilised sundowners like they’re at a fancy country club on their best behaviour.  It’s been _hours_ since Jensen promised him the pain he’s after.

“We’re doing this on my timetable or not at all.”

It’s Jensen’s mild tone that gets to Jared the worst, the one where he sounds almost sweet, loving, while his words lay down inflexible law.  Nothing will budge him when he’s like this so Jared gives up, eases backwards so the plug stops digging into him so painfully and starts on his beer.  It’s good, and he lets it wash through him, alleviating his impatience.  Jensen’s right, being on edge is not the right mindset for what they have planned and he’s not going to touch Jared until he judges him ready so Jared concentrates on calming down.  He focuses on the fiery colours in the sky, on Jensen’s soft voice as he shares something funny the twins did while he was feeding them this evening, and lets his mind drift away from internal thought.  Jensen’s in charge now.  Jared doesn’t have to control anything.  All he has to do is what Jensen tells him to.

As darkness falls around them, Jensen doesn’t turn on the outside lights.  Instead he orders Jared to come and lie beneath his feet.  “I’m gonna have another beer,” he announces, “and you’re gonna lie there so I can put my feet up and relax.”

Jared moves as if under a spell, prostrating himself on the warm wooden slats for Jensen to rest one foot on his ass, the other between his shoulder blades.  It feels good here, like he’s where he should be, and since Jensen hasn’t given any other instructions he rests his head on his folded arms and lets his eyes fall closed. 

Usually when he serves as a footstool, Jensen ignores him and gets on with reading or watching something, but tonight he continues the conversation, expecting Jared to participate from his position flat on the floor.  It should feel undignified, but it doesn’t.  He just relaxes more.  He’s safe here, with Jensen. 

As he winds to the end of a story, Jensen presses down with his feet, increasing Jared’s sense of security.  “Remember this in Seattle,” he says and Jared feels his deep voice sliding over him like a caress.  Any time you feel uncomfortable or uneasy, take a moment to close your eyes and come back here to lying on the ground beneath my feet.  This is where you belong.  This is your place.  Feel it.”  His right foot pushes harshly against the plug.  “How’s this doing?”

He’s almost forgotten it was there.  “’m good.”

“Want me to take it out before I beat you?”

“Your choice, Jen.”  He doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to decide.  “Tell me.”

“I’m gonna take it out, okay?”  But he taps it again with his foot.  “You’ve been real good for me, wearing it all afternoon like I told you.”

“For you.”

“Yeah, for me.”  Jensen’s drawl is thick with satisfaction.  “Who’d you belong to, Jay?”

“You.”

“Yes.  You do.”  It’s a statement.  Unequivocal.  Jensen lets it ring through the thick evening air then he removes his feet.  “Can you get up onto your hands and knees?”

“Yeah.”  The plug jolts him as he moves and he’s relieved that Jensen’s decided to take it out.  It’s going to  hurt when he gets fucked anyway, but at least his hole will have some time to settle. 

Jensen’s hand strokes through his hair and then down his back.  It feels blissful and he arches into it.

“Like that?”

“More.”

He feels like a cat and wants to purr.  Because he can’t, he nuzzles his face against Jensen’s knee and Jensen laughs softly.  “You feeling good, baby?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Ready for me to hurt you?”

The words shiver through him.  “Yes, please.”

“Good boy.”  Jensen continues to stroke him lazily, tangling his free hand into Jared’s curls.  “You still want what you asked me for?”

“Yeah.”

“Remind me.”

He knows Jensen hasn’t forgotten; he just wants Jared to verbalise it to make sure he’s still aware of what’s going to happen.  “Eight at eight,” he says clearly, even though his face is buried in Jensen’s jeans.  “On my ass, on my thighs, on my chest.  Which is 24 altogether,” he hastily clarifies, realising he hadn’t necessarily been as specific as he could have been earlier.  “You got that, right?”

“I got that.”  Jensen laughs again, and there’s no better sound in the world, before tightening his hand in Jared’s hair.  “Ready to stand up now?” 

“Yeah.” 

It’s almost time, and anticipation licks at his belly as Jensen helps him to his feet and leads him indoors to their bedroom.  He hasn’t forgotten the overwhelming fiery agony of the cane last week and now he’s asked for it in places far more difficult to cope with.  Can he take it?  He’ll have to or Jensen will never give it to him again. 

Stripping for Jensen is its own reward but he loves it when Jensen undresses him so he stands docile as Jensen removes his clothes.  It makes him feel like a doll, like Jensen’s plaything, like he has no will of his own, he exists solely for Jensen.  He bends when pushed and relaxes his muscles when Jensen pulls and then he’s empty. 

Jensen’s finger swirls through the sticky remnants of lube.  “How’s that feel?”

“Open.”

“Yeah?”  Jensen presses inside.  “You’re very loose.  Want me to put it back in?”

“No!”  The word escapes without any decision from his mind. 

Jensen shoves two more fingers straight inside him.  “Sure?”

Letting his pained whimper answer for him, he clenches his hands in the bed covers.  That thing rubbed him raw and Jensen’s dick later is going to require just as much endurance as the caning he has coming. 

After a few thrusts, Jensen relents.  “Ready, babe?”

“I’m ready.”

“Last chance to change your mind, to request something easier.”

“I want it.”

Jensen lands a hard slap right at where his thighs crease into his ass.  _Shit,_ he hates being hit on the thighs.  “You sure about that?”

“ _Yes_ , Jensen.”

Another slap.  “Want a warm-up?” 

He wants to say no but isn’t sure if Jensen will allow that.  “If you want me to.”

“I asked you.”  The slap is harder this time, lower. “You want me to spank your thighs before I cane them?”

He can’t prevent a little dance on his toes as the slaps continue.  “No!”

“Your ass?”

“No.”

“Sure?”

Why is Jensen so obsessed with double-checking tonight?  “’m sure, Jensen.”

“Okay.”  Jensen stops the spanking and squeezes his cheeks.  “I’m going to cane you now.  Eight on your ass, eight on your thighs and then eight across your chest.  Right, baby?”

“s right.”

 

*

 

Jared is obviously scared and for once Jensen can’t take any pleasure in his fear.  He desperately doesn’t want to do this, but he has to respect Jared’s request.  It’s what he needs and it means so much that he actually asked.  They’ve taken a long time to get to this point and he can’t violate the trust Jared has in him just because he feels squeamish about it. 

Fetching the cane, he bounces it gently against his palm while he takes stock.  Jared’s trembling and it’s not from cold because Jensen made sure to open the windows and turn off the air so it would be warm for him.  Probably best to just get it over with, then he can focus on comfort.

He wants to murmur another last chance opportunity but Jared sounded impatient with the last one and he doesn’t want to seem like he’s questioning Jared’s decision so he lines up the cane and taps Jared’s ass softly. 

“I’ll count,” he says. “You just feel, Jay, okay?  Just let yourself feel it all.”

Jared hisses with the first one.  Gasps with the second.  A deep sob rips from his chest with the third.  “Don’t stop,” he says fiercely when Jensen hesitates.  “Jensen, don’t you dare.”

By the end of the first eight he’s crying, little broken hiccups rather than bawling, at least, and Jensen wants to cradle him to his chest and promise him it’s over.  But he has another promise to keep.

“Ready?”

_“Yes.”_

He wants to pull it, to dial the intensity down to adjust for how much Jared hates pain on his thighs, but that would also be breaking his promise so he makes himself hit them just as viciously.  The first strike elicits a scream as Jared’s legs buckle.

“Yes, like that, Jensen!”

Shit.  For the next seven, Jared transmutes his screams to violent curses but he must have been counting silently because on the last one he lets himself scream loud and long, pounding his fist into the mattress his arms are braced on.   Jensen lets his hand rest on Jared’s heaving back for comfort.  He’s shivering badly and Jensen longs to drape himself over the vulnerable, hurting body but he can’t.  Not yet. 

“Eight more, Jay.”  He wants to give him the option not to take them but Jared made his decision clear.  “Tell me when you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready.” 

“Yeah?  You wanna get it over with?”

Jared draws in a long, shaky breath and holds it for several seconds.  “How do you want me, Jen?  For my chest.”

“Kneel on the bed for me.  Can you do that?”

“Mm.”  It takes him a minute, but he straightens up, eyes bright with tears as they meet Jensen’s.  “How’s it look?”

For once, Jensen hasn’t paid attention.  Normally he loves marks on Jared, but something’s off tonight. 

“Jen?”

He can’t let Jared see his turmoil, so he fakes a laugh.  It sounds like Dean, not himself, but luckily Jared is in too much pain to notice.  “I’ll take pictures for you when we’re done then you can see for yourself.  Ready to get on the bed?”

He offers a hand and Jared leans on him to climb onto the bed, letting Jensen position him the way he wants.  This is going to be the big test and he arranges Jared on his knees, leaning back with his hands on the mattress behind him, thrusting his impressive chest out for Jensen to hurt.  He did some research on google before Jared came over to confirm the safety of hitting him here and gave himself a few whacks to gauge intensity.  He’s going to have to adjust it down because the pain is insane, even Jared with those pecs of his won’t be exempt.

Jared’s eyes are closed as he holds the position.  “I’m ready,” he says. 

Jensen doesn’t move.

“Jen?  I said I’m ready.”

He can’t do this.  Is this how Jared felt when Jensen insisted on being hit by him last week?  He wants to safeword, but what right does he have when Jared’s asked for this because he needs it?  This isn’t one of their games, tonight isn’t for fun.  This is Jared asking for help to cope with what lies ahead and Jensen _can’t_ flake out on him.

But nor can he make himself move.

“Jensen?” 

Shit, now Jared’s looking at him.

“Are you okay?”

“I—don’t—want to hurt you.”  The words howl through him but emerge through clenched teeth.  “Jay, I’m—”  _Sorry_ , he’s going to say, but what comes out is, “Scared.”

“Scared?  Jensen?”  Ignoring protocol, Jared scrambles over to him and pulls him close against the expanse of bare chest he’s supposed to be beating.  “Hey, your heart’s racing.  Sit down next to me.”

But Jensen’s legs give way and he falls to the floor between Jared’s legs.  Jared keeps hold of him, arms wrapped around him, fingers nestling into Jensen’s short hair. 

“It’s okay.  I’m okay, you’re okay.  Just breathe, Jen.”

Is this what a panic attack feels like?

“You’re good, you’re all good.  You’re safe, we’re both safe.  We’re okay.”  Jared keeps up the litany that it’s usually Jensen repeating to him, doesn’t stop his gentle caresses.  “Do you need anything?  Can I get you some water?”

“Stay.”  Jensen clings to the powerful thigh he’s half draped over.  The thigh he’s left bloody on the other side.  There’ll be blood on the coverlet.  He needs to disinfect Jared.  To be safe.  They weren’t bad wounds but they’re wounds all the same and what if they get infected while Jared’s on the other side of the country too far away for him to look after—

“Shh, Jen, it’s okay, you’re okay.” 

This is mortifying.  “Jared,” he whispers.  “Jay, I love you.”

“I know you do.  And I love you too.  You know that.”

“I want to give you what you need.”  He needs to say this, needs Jared to know the truth, and it’s easier to allow the words when he can’t see Jared’s face.  “I’m so proud of you and you asked me and I _want_ to give it to you.”

“It’s okay, we can stop now, Jensen.  You get to safeword too, you know.  Do you need to stop?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Sure, let me just get some lube.  I’m pretty open from earlier so it won’t take long—”

“No.  You.  Fuck _me_.”

“Jensen?”

He can’t blame Jared for being astonished.  They’ve only done it this way a handful of times.  “Please fuck me, Jared.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can—absolutely.  Right now?”

“Please.”

His cheeks are wet and he feels like Dean, wonders absurdly if there was just that one perfect fucking tear at a time.  It’s easier than thinking about Jared, who’s moving gingerly as he lifts Jensen up onto the bed.

He takes his time preparing Jensen.  Jensen’s tight, obviously.  He’s always tight, which is one of the reasons he doesn’t like doing this, and Jared’s huge fingers hurt despite how delicately he goes about it.  The look on Jared’s face, though, is one of reverence and awe.  He likes this, Jensen realises.  He likes having Jensen pliant beneath him, likes murmuring nonstop compliments and praises (“Oh Jensen, you’re beautiful, look at you, you’re so pretty down here”), likes taking charge of both of their pleasure.  He knows just how to do it, starting with his fingers then moving to his tongue, which is electric and explodes Jensen’s nerve-endings until he’s clutching at Jared’s sweat-slick hair, out of control of his own body, gasping, maybe even sobbing.

Jared alternates fingers and tongue, more fingers, tongue again, until eventually he deems Jensen ready and gets into position between his legs.  “Tell me if this hurts.”

It’s going to hurt, but Jensen doesn’t care.  He lets his eyes cling to Jared’s as Jared eases inside him unbearably slowly. 

“Get in me,” he orders breathlessly.

“I am in you.”  The look on Jared’s face is heartbreakingly sweet.  “I’m inside you, Jen.  I’m right inside.  Can you feel me?”

It’s not like it was before.  He no longer feels like a gigantic log is splitting him in two.  It’s just…full.  Overwhelmingly full.

He is filled with Jared.

It’s the first time he really gets why Jared likes this. 

“You gonna move now?”

“In a minute.  Just want you to get used to me.  Your muscles are welcoming me, can you feel them?  They’re softening, inviting me in. 

He _can_ feel that, and he gasps as Jared pushes in the last few millimetres.  The stretch at his opening is too much—and then it isn’t.  It’s perfect.

“Fuck me,” he whispers.

And Jared does.

 

*

 

Afterwards they lie unmoving, Jensen cradled in Jared’s arms, while they catch their breath.  He feels Jared softening inside him and wants to cry again. 

_Don’t leave me.  Stay inside me._

“You okay?”

“I’m good.  How about you?”

“Yeah.  I’m…”  He tries to collect his thoughts, but they’re skittering all over the place.  He grabs for the most important one.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  Leaning forward, Jared presses a kiss to his brow.  “I liked this.”

“I didn’t do what you asked.”

“You gave me everything I need.  Promise, Jen, you did.”

Not entirely, but he thinks he knows how to fix that.  He gives it another few minutes, relishing the sound of Jared’s slowing heartbeat against his ear, sharing a deep, burning kiss, splaying his legs to let Jared use a warm washcloth to clean him off.  It’s nice being the passive one for a moment, letting Jared take care of him.  He doesn’t want this always but for right now he savours it.  This is how much Jared loves him.

When Jared returns from the bathroom, he sits up.  “Kneel beside the bed and give me your left hand.”

Jared clearly has no idea why but he instantly sinks to his knees, palm up.  “Like this?”

“Perfect.  Now close your eyes.”  Taking a firm hold of his wrist, Jensen leans across to the bedside table where he abandoned the cane.  This he can definitely do and it takes no willpower at all to slam it down as hard as he can across Jared’s upturned palm.

_“Fuck!”_

“Don’t move!”  He doesn’t let Jared pull away, jerks his palm back to where it was and lets loose with the cane twice more with full power.  “There you go.  Open your eyes.”

Jared does, his eyes wet and wild.  “Fuck, Jen, that hurts.”

“That was three at ten, okay?  Can you move your hand?”  Letting go, he watches Jared close and open his fingers several times. 

“I’m fine.  Just…hurts like fuck.”

“Look at the marks.”

There are three of them, livid lines across Jared’s palm.  No blood, thanks to the thickness of his skin there, but they’re going to turn ugly with bruising during the next few days. 

“Touch them,” he orders.

When Jared lifts his right hand to obey, muscle memory takes over and Jensen sees flashes of Sam pressing the wound in his palm to remind himself of what’s real: his brother, his love.  Jared’s face lightens as he realises what he’s done.

“You gave it to me,” he breathes.  “Jensen, you’re perfect.”

“All weekend,” Jensen says gruffly.  “That’s me with you, all right?  Just touch it whenever you need to and I’m there.”

Like Jared will be with him whenever he sits or stands or walks.  His hole is already aching from being stretched out of proportion. 

“I love you, Jensen.”

Jensen gathers him in for a soft, tender kiss.  “Forgive me for not doing your chest?”

“You did better.  This is what I should have asked for.  You were right.”

“We’ll make it, Jay.  It’s only a few days, then you’ll be home again, and soon we’ll be back in Vancouver alone for another year.  We’ll do it there, okay?”

“Thought you said no caning during the season,” Jared jokes huskily. 

“I have ideas,” Jensen says.  Fuck, but does he have ideas.  “It’s very versatile.  We’ll experiment.  Maybe the Friday before a convention.  Maybe I’ll stripe your chest then make you wear that black shirt of yours with the very low neckline, which, depending on how you move, might easily reveal the welts to any fan who happens to be looking in the right direction.”

“Their hands go all over my chest during photo ops.”

“Now that sounds like fun.  Think you’d be able to hide how much it hurt?”

“More like, could I hide how much it would turn me the fuck on?”

“Me too.  Watching you.  Watching you get your welts pawed all over by fan girls who just want to give you hugs and make you feel good.”

“I’d feel fucking good.”

“It’s gonna be a fun season,” he muses later, once he’s seen to Jared’s injuries and they’ve gone to bed, curling up next to each other in the dark.

“Lucky thirteen.”

“We’re gonna have so much fun.”  He lifts Jared’s abused hand up to his mouth and presses his lips against the fiery welts.  “This is just the beginning, baby.”


End file.
